“My mom says you can always find out someone’s true colors when they don’t get what they want…” — Conor Fuse, reciting a saying from Mrs. Fuse.
Rumble at the Rock is long since over. The night sky has appeared and the October winds along with it. “The Vintage” Conor Fuse sits soberly on a park bench somewhere within the vicinity of the Alcatraz Prison and yet still far enough away where he doesn’t have to be associated with the fallout. In fact, for further clarification, at this point in time, Conor doesn’t even know the results of the matches after his loss to Jatt Starr, he split right after the L. It’s safe to say The Vintage is going to be finding out a lot when he does.
Fuse sports a lime green jacket, with his initials “CXF” on the front of it and the usual lime green Adidas track pants, alongside a “BEST ALLIANCE” branded baseball cap. Maybe someone should tell him who the hat is supposed to represent. Conor just thought the graphic looked cool and snatched one from the merchandise stand on his way out of the arena.
“Sigh.” He says the word out loud. “I was so close and yet so far away…”
Fuse lowers his head, as a sense of depression swoops over him. He promised himself he wouldn’t take a loss hard. It’s just that… he wanted it so bad. After all Jatt Staff cost him the Icon Championship and now another Life. A huge Life.
Fuse pulls out a small pocket book and pen from his jacket. He opens the book up and writes a strike on the page. Then Conor starts counting…
“Got a few lives left.” He says, trying to hold back the tears. “I can get through this.”
Finally, The Game Boy, who always seems to be lagging behind, shows up and stands in front of Conor. Arms crossed, expression withheld due to his facemask, only The Vintage is able to get a true read on his associate.
“Well my little friend…” Conor begins. “I gave it my all, didn’t I?”
The Game Boy says nothing.
“Jatt is a High Octane Selects and I took it to him. I took it to him, good!” Conor starts building a little momentum in his voice and more confidence as he continues to work through the match. “He made me bleed. I punched him square in the face.”
The Game Boy says nothing.
“I showed all the Bosses and Bots in HOW I’m someone to take seriously. I’m not a little dweeb who likes to play video games… even though, hey, that’s a pretty awesome thing to do.”
The Game Boy, you guessed it, says nothing.
“I fought and clawed my way through a lack of respect. I had him sweating.”
Obviously, there’s still no response from The Mini Boss.
“I hate old people.”
And just like that, Conor’s head is down again, feeling defeated.
… … … or is he?
When it seems as though The Green One has given up all hope, The Game Boy ever-so-slightly twitches his right shoulder. Maybe it was a signal, likely it was a muscle spasm. Even so, it doesn’t matter to Conor. Fuse sees it out of the corner of his eyes and the spirit in him… comes back.
“What, me worry?” Fuse mentions. “Heavens no. This is not the end… this is the start of something. This is the start of something big.”
Fuse lifts his head.
“I faced a legend and I ALMOST kicked out.”
Fuse lifts his shoulders.
“I have sent shockwaves to those who have entered my path. I’m not an easy fight!”
Fuse stands on his feet.
“This game is only the beginning.”
Conor smacks The Game Boy as hard as he can on the shoulder. The henchman is so solid, it doesn’t knock him back.
“I stay on this level. I open my mind and I open my world. I welcome anybody to come my way. BOTS, Bosses, ‘Hall of Famers’ as they call them.”
Conor nods to The Game Boy and they walk into the distance together.
“I can fight anyone. I can take them all to the limit!”
The two are almost out of sight.
“Ladder match? Iron man match? Tables match?”
“Hell, maybe we even kill a guy!”
Boy, is he sure in for a surprise when he finds out the RATR results…
“This world is WIDE open, my favorite little buddy.” The last image of the two sees Conor reaching up to tussle The Mini Boss’ head. “Let’s see who comes calling…”